


Everywhere, Every Time

by confundedgryffindor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1850s Britain, 1980s, Alternate Universe - A Big Gay Mess, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ancient Greece, Chicago (City), Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Nobility, Pirates, Port Royal, World War II, and alternate timelines, but it's only implied and nothing graphic, crystal night, i'm just gonna tag everything this fic includes and explain it in the notes, it's alternate universes, look everything is an au of sorts and it's hard to explain, of sorts, smushed together in one fic, there's also like kind-of pining, without knowing that it's pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 05:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19202545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confundedgryffindor/pseuds/confundedgryffindor
Summary: Remus was sure he’d seen him before.The narrow grey eyes, the sharp cheekbones and jawline, the pointy nose. The elegant locks of black hair, only grazing his shoulders, the tattoos on his hands, the ones peeking through the collar of his shirt. The earring glinting subtly through his hair.Remus must’ve seen him. Somewhere, sometime. He just couldn’t place where or when.-In which Remus and Sirius meet multiple times, but not quite





	Everywhere, Every Time

**Author's Note:**

> okay so explaination as to what this is:  
> first off, it's based on [ this ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWpQTx8-f6Q) commercial sent in the WDS discord by jennandblitz, so by watching that you'll understand most of it.  
> this is not a time travel au, nor are they immortals. remus and sirius simply meet in different timelines, in different countries, at different ages, but never have the chance to end up together for whatever reason. it can be a bit confusing, but i think you'll enjoy it nontheless
> 
> now, funky disclaimer: i touched on a rather sensitive topic with crystal night and WWII, but i tried to keep it as brief and non-graphic as possible. if it would trigger you, please refrain from reading, please and thank you  
> also, i apologize for any incorrect history. i wasn't going to research for more than 20 minutes for each 300-500 word segment
> 
> beta'd by my wonderful fandom mother [ jencala ](https://jencala.tumblr.com/) who called me out on my love for commas, deleting a lot of my one true love from the document

_ London, The United Kingdom, 2018 _

 

Remus was sure he’d seen him before. 

The narrow grey eyes, the sharp cheekbones and jawline, the pointy nose. The elegant locks of black hair, only grazing his shoulders, the tattoos on his hands, the ones peeking through the collar of his shirt. The earring glinting subtly through his hair. 

Remus must’ve seen him. Somewhere, sometime. He just couldn’t place where or when.

***

_ Athens, Greece, 506 BC _

 

Remus had heard about the theatre taking place in the city that day. The theatre taking place in order to honour Dionysus, but he knew that he couldn’t go. He had to stay at home and help his father with repairing the walls of their house. 

He wished though, that he could sneak away, just for a few minutes. Just to see a snippet from the theatre. To sit among the people, watch the stories unravel before his eyes. 

And instead he was stuck outside of his house, piecing it together with clay that dried almost immediately in the hot and dry air. He was sure that Zeus had had a great laugh the other day, when he’d caused such a storm that Remus’ house almost crumbled, and now refused to even give a light breeze to cool him down as he worked.

It was boring and labour intensive and he could hear the laughs and the gasps from the city, but Remus couldn’t find it in him to argue with his father to go see it. Instead he plastered clay onto the walls, hoping that the Gods would forgive him for not being able to participate and give them some chillier days in the coming week.

After hours of work, when the sun had set and the clay had layered over his hands like a second skin, his father finally gave him a pat on the back, telling him to take a break. The house looked as good as new, and Remus let out a big breath of relief.

He’d taken his cloak off hours ago, but the sweat was still dripping down his back, soaking through his chiton. It was uncomfortable and tacky, and he decided to go wash himself off by the well. It was only a short walk from his house, anyways.

The gasps and laughs had died down a little when he set off to wash himself off in the well, and he hoped that he would get there before the streams of people would emerge from the theatre. 

Once he arrived, Remus saw a boy sitting on the ground by the well. Remus’ breath hitched, and he couldn’t help but to stare at him.

The boy was beautiful. Black hair, flowing down elegantly, grazing his shoulders. Slender fingers toying with the band of his sandal. His skin was a touch lighter than Remus’ dark bronze, but it looked smooth and not calloused and scarred, like Remus’. The boy could be a god, that’s how beautiful he was.

“SIRIUS!” Remus’ head whipped around to the direction of the voice. He looked around, squinting in the sparsely torch lit night. He couldn’t see anyone, though, and when he turned back to the well, the boy was gone.

***

_ Port Royal, Jamaica. 1726 _

 

“Captain! Captain!” Remus rolled his eyes as he turned around, retrieving his rum flask from his inner pocket as he did.

“What, Pettigrew?” Remus raised his eyebrow - the only eyebrow that actually rose, the other was stuck underneath his eyepatch - at his crew member. 

Pettigrew looked remarkably like a rat, short and fat with wispy hairs sticking out in strange directions from both his head and face. He was rather useless in most areas, but he knew how to cook, so Remus let him stay on the ship anyways. He was sure Pettigrew had his qualities, they just weren’t very prominent.

Pettigrew didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at Remus’ face. He was no doubt staring at the scar slashing across his eye, peeking out of the eyepatch on both the top and the bottom.

Remus took a swig from his rum, “ _ What,  _ Pettigrew?”

Pettigrew shook his head, “Right, right! Potter says we’re nearly there.”

Remus wanted to groan, because he thought something serious was going on. Like a fire in the kitchens, or someone was threatening to fire their cannons at his ship. Pettigrew didn’t seem to know how to handle any situation with grace or subtlety, so of course he’d yelled when the only thing he wanted was to tell Remus that they were nearing land.

“Thank you,” Remus said instead of groaning, taking another swig of rum. “Gather our treasures, will you? I have a few trades to do.”

“Aye,” Pettigrew nodded, then he disappeared out of Remus’ sight. Remus walked up to Potter, the sailing master, and put his hand on his shoulder. 

Potter turned around, and his face split into a large grin when he saw Remus, showing off two gold teeth. Potter was half blind, yet somehow the most amazing sailor Remus had ever met.

“Port Royal,” Remus said. He was grinning too. “I was thinking that we stay there for a week or two, trade and sell some stuff, then set off back to England. You miss your wife and son, I imagine, and I can’t force you to stay forever.”

Potter nodded, “I do miss them, of course, but I have actually rather enjoyed our time together.”

Remus laughed, taking another swig from the flask. “I promised you something to make your stay worth it, but it’s going to take a few days.”

“Of course,” Potter said. 

Remus watched as the deep blue water became lighter and lighter, and he smiled to himself. He hadn’t been to Port Royal yet, but he hoped it would be worth his while. 

They had raided a few ships on their journey and had enough stuff on hand to trade and sell to make the entire ship rich. Or, almost rich. 

 

Remus walked through the village, he had his hands free but his pockets weighed down with coins and jewellery. He felt pleased with himself for managing to trade so much in only two days, and despite the gold weighing down his coat, he walked with a light touch in his step.

He glanced around the village as he walked, taking in the buildings and the ships, and the people passing by, the beggars and the richer people. 

All the faces were new to him, some with large noses, some with small eyes, some with short hair and some with—

Remus stopped in his tracks and his breath stuck in his throat.

The man in front of him was beautiful. He had longer hair, pulled into a ponytail and he wore expensive, almost royal-looking clothes. Remus couldn’t see his face very well from where he was standing, but he could make out a sharp jawline and cheekbones. He was breathtaking.

Remus took a step towards him, determined to ask for his name. 

“‘Scuse me,” a woman said, pushing past Remus, causing him to stumble a step back. He glared after her, his mouth set in a sneer, then he looked back towards the man. 

And he was gone.

***

_ Yorkshire, The United Kingdom, 1857 _

 

Remus walked on the grass, the pebbled ground far too sharp to step on without something covering his feet. His father had promised to repair his shoes for over a week now, but everytime he asked, Lyall told him that he had to work on his book. The book he never worked on, the book he was never going to finish. 

The air was warm and humid, causing a few beads of sweat to roll down Remus’ forehead. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, then grabbed ahold of  the sack of potatoes with both hands, hoisting it further up his shoulder.

He let out a groan. The sack was far too heavy to carry alone, but he’d promised his mother to carry it all the way home. He wasn’t quite sure what she needed so many potatoes for, but he wasn’t one to question his parents’ strange antics.

“Need a hand?” Remus turned around at the voice and his eyes widened.

He knew from first glance who it was, even though he’d never seen him in person before. Lord Black. 

Remus could only stare at him. He was beautiful, with sharp features, narrow grey eyes, and clothes that looked to be in much better condition than Remus had ever worn. He wasn’t as tall as Remus, only coming up to Remus’ nose, but he held himself in a way that made him seem much taller and… Bigger, in a way. 

Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, “If you’re offering.”

Lord Black smiled then stepped behind Remus to grab hold of the sack, easing the weight on Remus’ shoulder. They began walking again, and it was a bit awkward to keep the same pace, but Remus was thankful for the help he could get. 

They only had time to walk for about five minutes until a loud, “SIRIUS!” rang out, echoing in the almost empty street. 

Lord Black muttered something, then let go of the sack. Remus groaned as the weight returned to his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” Lord Black said. Remus turned around to thank him, but only caught a glimpse of his back as Lord Black ran towards the houses again.

“Thank you,” Remus mumbled, even though he wouldn’t hear it.

***

_ Berlin, Germany, 1938 _

 

Remus couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t scream, he couldn’t do anything. 

He sat on the street, his knees and toes digging into the crushed glass, sobbing into his hands. No tears came out, only shaky, cracking dry sobs, muffled by the palm of his hands. He knew it wasn’t safe, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He remembered the previous night clearly, but he couldn’t even begin to describe it.

A hand grazed his shoulder and Remus flinched violently, waiting for the inevitable attack. Waiting to be dragged away like his mother had been the previous night, waiting to be pushed into the street, ordered to say his last word, like his father had been forced to do last night. 

The hand grabbed hold of Remus’ shoulder and everything seemed to stop. “Stand up,” it was a man’s voice. Or a boy’s. Remus couldn’t quite tell.

Remus couldn’t breathe. “No.”

The hand didn’t leave his shoulder, but the boy behind him didn’t say anything else. And Remus waited. And waited. 

Eventually the hand left his shoulder, and he heard the crunching sound of heavy footsteps on the crushed glass. The hand returned to his shoulder and another gently grabbed his wrist, prying it away from his face.

“Hey,” Remus looked up carefully, and found himself staring right into a pair of narrow, grey eyes. It was a boy, he’d gotten that right, and he looked to be about Remus’ age. “Stand up.”

“Why?” he knew he was walking right into his own death by being difficult. He couldn’t stop himself though, it felt as though it didn’t matter anyways. 

The boy glanced around the street, then kept his gaze firmly behind his own shoulder as he struggled with the breast pocket on his jacket. Remus’ breath started coming in short gasps. 

The boy looked back at him, then retrieved something from the pocket. A David’s star. He held it up carefully, then stuffed it back into his pocket quickly. 

“I think we’re in a similar situation, yes?” he said. Remus didn’t respond, but the boy must’ve taken it as a  _ yes  _ anyways. “Good. Stand up. I know a place where you can go.”

***

_ Chicago, The United States, 1980 _

 

Remus had been waiting in line for hours, shivering in the cold October air. The sun had set a while ago, and the street was now lit by the bright neon signs from the arcade.

“Aren’t you excited?” Lily asked for the third time. Remus stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet. 

“‘Course I’m excited,” he grinned. “Just cold.”

“ _ Pac-man, _ ” Lily said and bumped her arm against Remus’. “Sounds a little stupid, doesn’t it?”

“Well, it’s a success for a reason, isn’t it?” Remus replied, bumping her arm back. Lily grinned and pulled her jacket tighter around herself. 

“We’re lucky for being at the beginning of the line,” she said, looking back at the line behind them. She was right; the line was extremely long and if it weren’t for her stressing about getting to the arcade as early as possible they would’ve been at the back. 

Remus hummed just as a person pushed past him, causing him to stumble a step backwards. He watched as the person, who seemed to be dressed in all black, slinked through the crowd.

“Hey!” he yelled after the person, who stopped in their tracks. “Watch where you’re going, fuckhead!”

The person turned around, and Remus suddenly couldn’t breathe. It was a boy his age, and holy crap, he was beautiful.

His face was sharp and angular, lit by the pink neon lights from the arcade. He looked as though he belonged on a movie cover, and Remus couldn’t stop staring. 

Their eyes met, and the boy’s face split into a grin. He blew a kiss at Remus, then flipped him the bird, turned around and kept walking, leaving Remus breathless and flustered.

***

_ London, The United Kingdom, 2018 _

 

Remus was sure he’d seen him before. 

The narrow grey eyes, the sharp cheekbones and jawline, the pointy nose. The elegant locks of black hair, only grazing his shoulders, the tattoos on his hands, the ones peeking through the collar of his shirt. The earring glinting subtly through his hair. 

Remus must’ve seen him. Somewhere, sometime. He just couldn’t place where or when.

“I- I’m sorry,” Remus said. The far too familiar man looked up from the albums he was browsing. He had a rather blank expression on his face, his eyes flicking over Remus before meeting his eyes. “This is gonna sound so strange, but have I seen you somewhere before? You look really familiar.”

The man chuckled and gave a small, one shouldered shrug, “Don’t think so, sorry.”

Remus couldn’t help but to feel disappointed, “Right. Sorry if I bothered you,” he turned around to browse the albums behind him instead, slightly embarrassed in himself.

It was obviously weird to just ask a stranger if they’d met before, but he just looked so  _ uncannily  _ familiar that Remus couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d at least bumped into him at some point, maybe even talked to him before. Perhaps he’d seen him on the underground, or at a McDonald’s. Somewhere, sometime.

Remus felt eyes burning in his neck. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake the uncomfortable feeling of being stared at, then grabbed an album. He made his way towards the register, his hand clutching the vinyl hard enough to make his knuckles turn white. 

He paid then made his way out of the store, unable to shake the sensation that the other man was still staring at him.

He fumbled in his pocket for his cigarettes, but a hand grabbed ahold of his wrist. Remus looked up and found himself staring right into the man’s eyes.

The world seemed to stop spinning and Remus swore he could see snapshots of him and the boy together. By a well in a dark city. In an unfamiliar village. Walking together on a pebbled road. Running side by side on uneven and shattered pavement. The man’s face lit by neon lights.

“I think…” the man said, and suddenly Remus was back on earth again staring right into those grey eyes. “I’ve seen you too.”

Remus swore his heart was going to jump out of his throat, and he took a shaky breath. The hand on his wrist seemed to burn his skin, like the feeling you get in your throat after you’ve taken a sip of whiskey, and Remus couldn’t think straight.

“I just don’t know where,” the man continued. “Are y-.”

Remus shook his head, “Everywhere.”

“What?”

“We’ve seen each other everywhere, every time.”

**Author's Note:**

> woo!!!! i hope you enjoyed and that it wasn't too confusing lmao
> 
> leave a comment if you liked and yell at me on my [ tumblr ](https://confunded-gryffindor.tumblr.com/)


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